


You Are the Moon

by BlueThorne



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Character Study, Domestic Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 13:21:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19426819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueThorne/pseuds/BlueThorne
Summary: Nero struggles to understand his place between Dante and Vergil. Meanwhile, Dante and Vergil struggle to make breakfast.





	You Are the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Just a dorky little drabble I wrote for a friend who was having a bad day.

Staring at them must have come off as weird, but their lives were already such a handbasket of fucked-up that they could get over my ogling. Besides, they were so busy stealing glances at each other that they didn’t pay me much mind. 

I watched the two of them move around the kitchen in some practiced dance, like each one already knew where to go for the other. In the small space between the countertops, Dante slipped around Vergil to grab the carton of eggs or a bowl from the cabinet. Vergil would lean out of Dante’s way or hold out his hand for Dante to give him something, all without looking back. 

Watching them relaxed in the same space was almost as mesmerizing as watching them fight. 

“Honestly, when was the last time you used these pans?” Vergil asked. “They look brand new.”

Dante wore a grin so honest that it made me realize how fake all the ones before it had been. “That’s impressive considering I found them in the trash.”

“You’d better be joking.”

“I might be. And anyway, when was the last time you ever cooked for yourself either?”

“I believe I have a legitimate excuse in that regard.”

Just like Dante, Vergil was different around his brother. I’d seen the way Vergil talked with anyone else, cold as hypothermia and just as eager to take off some appendages. Vergil  _ tolerated  _ conversations with others, but he just talked with Dante. Vergil wasn’t cold around his brother. He was still just as sharp-tongued as ever, maybe more so, but a shine of light appeared in his eyes at their dickish banter. 

And if Vergil shined, then Dante was blinding. Every smile melded with a warm affection that he never managed to hide behind snark. It was obvious watching them and the way they drifted around each other in tandem - Dante was the sun, and Vergil was the moon. They were balanced and eternal and impossibly far away from me. I could never hope to touch what they had. I was just some outside force getting in the way. 

The best I could hope for was to not intrude, so I headed to the pantry to grab some of the off-brand cereal I bought for myself. I knew I’d only be eating cold pizza otherwise. That was the only menu item at Dante’s place. 

“What are you doing, Nero?” Dante called just as I’d grabbed the box.

“Is this a trick question? I’m getting breakfast. Surprised to see you up so early.”

He placed his hand to his chest like he was about to deliver some overdramatic monologue. “I will get up at any hour for a homecooked meal from Vergil.”

“You are a liar,” Vergil said. “I dragged you out of bed and down the stairs.”

“And I am still working off some of those bruises.”

“More importantly, Nero-” Vergil’s sharp eyes turned on me. “-I am clearly making breakfast, so put that back.”

I blinked. “Oh, you don’t have to-”

“I am making breakfast. Sit down.”

As much as I wanted to shove a handful of dry cereal in my mouth out of pure spite, the eggs he was working on did look good. Fighting back a scowl, I plopped down into one of Dante’s mismatched kitchen chairs. He didn’t really have a dining room like places back home in Fortuna, and he hadn’t even had a proper table until recently. My guess was Vergil must have demanded one because it had appeared along with him. Dante had definitely gotten it and all the chairs from the trash, though. 

“Family rule is if you’re making food, you’re making it for everyone,” Dante said. “Mom was always adamant about that one.”

Vergil nodded along, and I wondered if I was included in that family. Probably not. 

“But at this rate, we might need to go back to the store for more eggs because we’re on attempt three.”

“Hush,” Vergil hissed, his shoulders taut. “I am simply out of practice, but I have it now!”

“I’m still scared to let him near the bacon, so we’ve just got scrambled eggs so far. They were going to be over easy, but you know how these things go.”

“Eggs are good all ways,” I said with a shrug. “Do you want help? I do cook sometimes, you know. I can make bacon.” I bit my tongue to keep from saying that bacon was so easy to cook that anyone could do it. 

“Sure!” Dante said before Vergil could give an answer. “Maybe Nero can give you some pointers, Verge.”

“At least someone in this house can,” Vergil bit back. 

I regretted my offer as soon as we were all crammed into the tiny kitchen space. I really was in the way, but I was able to squeeze around them as needed. Dante handed me a pan and a fork. “Sorry, I don’t own tongs,” he said. “Would two forks work?”

“I can work with one.”

Vergil stepped just enough to the side to give me space at the stove, and I could feel him stealing glances at my every move. “Bacon is simple,” I offered. He would never have asked, but it seemed like he wanted to learn. “You just put it in the pan, flip it, and watch out for grease popping.”

“You can also cook it in the microwave,” Dante said. My nose wrinkled at the thought. 

Vergil leaned his head a fraction toward me. “He keeps trying to extol the virtues of the microwave to me,” 

“Microwaves are great!” Dante said. “You can cook anything in there.”

I hated to think of what Dante had tried to cook in the microwave. No wonder it looked like a war zone in that thing. “Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should,” I said. 

Vergil nodded. “You’re right. This one is mine.”

“I told you so,” Dante said through a laugh. 

As I realized they were talking about me, my face warmed red like the stovetop burners. “Don’t include me in your weird… nonsense…” The thoughts raced from my head as I tried to grasp them. 

Dante leaned onto the counter to look me in the face. “Afraid there’s no choice. You’ve got our genes, kid. You’re one of us. We’re family.”

“We are not.” I kept my eyes on the bacon to keep from looking at either of them, but I could feel both of them looking at me regardless. 

“Perhaps not,” Vergil said, his tone gentler than I was used to hearing it. “But it’s something to work on, something to relearn. I have many things to relearn.” He flicked off the burner, snapping me back to reality to find I’d been staring wide-eyed at the crackling bacon. 

Dante handed me a stack of three plates that Vergil took from my hand. “Should have toast with this too,” Vergil muttered. 

“I can try cooking it in the microwave.”

“Do not!”

“I’ll cook the toast,” I cut in for the sake of my own sanity. “You two want everything to be so damn difficult.”

Vergil glanced away with a flash of what I would have described as shame on anyone else’s face, but surely Vergil didn’t feel that. Dante clearly didn’t because he winked at me. “That’s why we keep you around, kid. Someone has to be the one who’s down to Earth.”


End file.
